


An Awful lot of Running

by Prestidigitations



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Homestuck, crossover - Fandom
Genre: AU, Crack Crossover, Gen, crossover AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 19:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6342172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prestidigitations/pseuds/Prestidigitations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's people going missing, who are you to stay out of it when you know you can help? Also what are these weird English hobos doing here?</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Awful lot of Running

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in my folder for years now and I just realized it was completed and I should probably put it up somewhere.

People go missing. 

  
It starts small- the homeless guy you used to pass on the way home from the shop, a barista in the Starbucks down the street- but then it gets more noticeable.

  
The cute guy at the record shop doesn't turn up for work, your landlord starts evicting whole floors of people who suddenly stop paying rent- she turns the keys in their doors and discovers empty rooms, dusty like no one's ever been there.

  
People go missing, but nobody notices.

You try to ignore it at first, keep your head down, pretend you don't see when your bus driver of 12 years is suddenly replaced with a younger, peppier model.

  
Weird shit is typically weird for a reason and in a city like this you can't really afford to get wrapped up in it.

  
But then kids start to go missing.

You don't like kids, they're loud and fragile and way too observant, but you just can't pretend not to see when the news and the stores start to fill up with pictures of smiling young faces.

  
People are going missing, and nobody knows why.

You track them, every missing person, every lost kid you hear about, you log them away in your head with AR to take home and pin up on a board you've started to keep on for fridge in your kitchen.

It's not a full investigation just names and dates, whatever. This is not your problem, but you just can't pretend anymore.

  
You try and find out a little about them if you can, looking for a pattern that doesn't seem to exist. AR seems impatient, but he scans and scouts the internet for anything that might be of use.

  
Your little project overruns your fridge and trails off onto your cabinets, but there's still no panic in the streets yet.

People are good at not seeing things.

You learned that early.

People look the other way all the time. Nobody's ever stopped to ask why no one but you ever comes to your door when they knock, even though your flat seems to be full of voices; why the child they see leaving and entering the apartment doesn't ever to go to school, what the sounds and boxes coming out of your apartment at all hours are about, it's better not to ask questions.

Normally you're grateful, but lately it's annoying.

Your robots start acting up around mid-fall.

It's not obvious at first- they can be pretty erratic on their good days, but they slump forward suddenly one day and won't be roused.

Only AR remains unaffected.

The apartment feels a lot bigger with just the two of you.

The first time you lose AR you panic.

It'd been the two of you on your own for a while by then- despite all your efforts you can't seem to fix your other friends- and the thought of being completely alone utterly terrifies you.

He blinks off for a fraction of a second mid-rant about faulty human programming and you are utterly rattled by the interruption.

The glitch scares him, which makes him 1000 times more of an ass than he usually is, but you can't blame him, you're scared too.

You think there's a link between the missing people and your fritzy bots and you throw yourself 100% into finding the connection, terrified that you're going to end up completely alone if you don't do something soon. AR helps, gets less stable by the day, and eventually stops responding to your texts and hails.

Someone's figured out you're on to them, they've pulled the plug on your OS and without him and his brothers you're dead in the water.

You're also completely alone for the first time in 17 years.

It's an odd feeling.

You're three days into a bender, on your way to the store for more fuel for your downward spiral when you spot them the first time:

A man and a boy, peering around in evident interest and looking sort of lost.

"This doesn't look much like the Jungles of Liypherdrene Doctor," the boy says to the man.

He looks like he got dressed in the fucking dark with a longish olive coat and a puffy green vest over a T-shirt and khaki cargos. His battered, ugly hiking boots have obviously seen some shit, his hair makes him seem like he's been personally betrayed by a comb and never touched one since, and his dentistry is a bit to have to take in all at once, but he's built and that accent is some flavour of British and damn his eyes are green green green.

You're not actually that picky, weird and cute'll do it for you, and he's enough of a pretty freak-show to make you take notice.

"No," the man he's with says slowly, looking around, "It's not." Your first impression of him is "ironically-psychotic-hipster" followed paradoxically by "professional-homeless-person".

He sticks out like a fucking laser lightshow, it's a damn train wreck, they might as well have a giant pointing sign that says 'NOT FROM AROUND HERE'. You shake your head at the display and hope someone not-you will take notice and pity them soon.

Any other day you might have found them a person to help, but you don't have time for crazy tourists anymore. The end is probably nigh.

The strange tourists aren't just a passing thing though.

You see them skulking around your neighborhood the next day and watch them bicker in the alley behind your apartment from your window the day after that.

They're looking for something.

If AR were around he'd joke about your paranoid delusions and insinuate that your negligible contributions to the human race would not merit even the slightest pique of interest, but he's not, so there's nothing to distract you from the fact that they might be looking for you.

They infiltrate the apartment complex next.

You wake up to a pounding at your door and crack open the door to see the kid and his friend beaming in the hallway.

"Erm. Good morning!" The cute boy stammers awkwardly, waving his hand just a bit. "Sorry to bother you mate."

They're both taller than you thought and the man rattles off an obvious lie about being some sort of inspector.

"Just want to take a quick look round," he says, "Make sure everything's in order." He flashes a pad of paper with his "credentials" and asks to be let inside.

The paper has your handwriting on it; it says _they can help_ and that's unsettling enough that you give them a firm no and shut the door's seven locks with vicious finality. You would call the cops if you thought they could do anything.

The strange man and his companion argue outside for a minute before wandering off. You consider your part in the matter closed.

Your landlord goes missing the next day and that's the final straw.

You can't leave the apartment, if you have to move or there's an investigation there'll be questions and questions are the number one thing you can **not** afford.

You break into her apartment on the first floor looking for clues and wishing for company and find nothing but old, empty rooms.

It's a disaster.

This shitshow's just cost you your fucking life.

You sit in your apartment in the middle of the floor with your hands fisted in your hair until the man barges in with the boy hot on his heels. They look at you, dumbfounded, and you get up and take a deep, shaky breath.

"Your piece of paper said you could help me," you whisper, "Help me, please."

The man is called "the Doctor" that's it, just "the Doctor".

The boy's name is more normal: Jake English and apparently they're time travelers.

You wonder if there's some sort of club.

Dealing with them both at the same time is like having a pack of coked-out puppies underfoot, it's daunting, but they're loud and they're exciting.

You've been alone for so very long, the company is welcome, even if they're crazy people.

The doctor asks you a billion and one crazy questions about the people who've disappeared- when, where, how, who- and you do your best to answer them hoping he'll know the answer to the most important question: why.

Jake is much more interested in your apartment- your robots, your posters, your pet fish, he asks you tons of questions about your life and what you do.

You tell him about your projects, about AR, he asks about your poor, sad bots.

"Bit of a life, yeah?" he grins, "There's all sorts of doohickery about in here, it's just tops!" His accent and syntax are unlike any you've ever heard- it's like 19th century adventure book had rough sex in an action film- and his excitable manner and rapid fire questions make him hard to keep up with.

"Where are your parents?" he asks at one point.

  
"I live with my bro," you answer stiffly, "He's a movie producer, he's out in California right now, won't be back for a minute." Jake's eyes light up. He apparently LOVES movies and his questions change to asking about your interests, the kind of movies you enjoy.

The doctor watches you, his eyes sad and ancient in his face, and says nothing.

It turns out there is exactly one single thread of common ground between the disappearances: every single person's checked out a book from your local library.

It's not a lot to go on, but it's better than nothing. The doctor works it out in less than an hour and he and Jake scoot off to further investigate.

You hover between the need to help and the ingrained habit not to attract attention and in the end, the need to protect innocent people wins out.

You head to the library, sword in hand and are surprised when you find yourself staring down the twin barrels of the strangest guns you've ever seen in your life.

"That's far enough mr Strider," Jake says firmly. You sheath your sword and put your hands up.

"I'm just here to help," you say carefully.

"You're lying," he sighs, "You've been lying to us since the beginning."

"I have not," you counter automatically. Jake frowns grimly.

"There's a server room in your apartment," he says.

"So?" you ask.

"So, those flats are all the same, we've been in them, two rooms. If you live with your brother, where does he sleep? Why didn't you want to help us until your landlady was taken? Why can you read psychic paper? Most importantly why do you have access to technology from five hundred years from now?"

Fucking busted.

"Okay," you say, "You got me. My bro was a time agent, he moved me into protection, I've been here in the twenty first century since I was a kid. In not supposed to attract attention to myself and for the record I think time travel sucks." Jake smiles ruefully.

"It depends on how you travel." he says, slotting his guns back into their holsters. "Are on your own then?" 

  
"Yeah," you whisper and you try not to sound too bitter about it.

  
"Me too," Jake replies, "Well, sort of. I've been traveling my whole life, since before my gran died. SHE was the doctor's companion I'm just a hanger on since, well, there was no else to care for me really...do you really want to help?"

  
"If I can," you say. Jake beams at you and your heart flops in your chest.

  
"Righty-o then," he winks, "Rules are simple: run when I say and try not to wander off."

There's biblophons in the library's basement.

Apparently they're low level psychic little hob-goblins that press themselves into books and feed off the brainwaves of the people reading them.

The doctor thinks they must've crash landed and activated their ship's defenses which is why your fighting robots are offline.

They're keeping their victims In stasis to better feed with a sort of subwave interface that disrupts neural activity. Once it's disabled their take out wakes up and AR reasserts himself in your shades.

You've never been so glad to see the embarrassing asshole in your whole life.

You give him the quick rundown on what's happened since he went offline while you swat at tiny aliens with the flat of your katana- killing is apparently a no-no, Jake's guns turn out to be 82nd century tasers- and he's furious enough to override their systems and blow their entire little macabre diner sky- high.

Jake and you are in charge of comforting the survivors, since they don't remember anything about their ordeals and the doctor and AR handle the rest.

By morning there's no cctv, so information, nothing to prove anything extraterrestrial ever happened here.

The police will blame it on a gas leak.

People don't ask questions.

Jake is absolutely beside himself about saving the kids.

"You were incredible!" He crows, "Simply astounding!" You blush and ignore AR's jibes about your new friends.

The doctor compliments you as well, which feels really special and he's got a surprise waiting for you at the apartment in the form of a little extra timelord help fixing your broken friends.

"A lot of effort went into these," he says approvingly, "Honestly the design's not bad for 51st century."

Jake putters around making friends while you guys wrap up and keeps giving the doctor these huge, baleful puppy eyes.

Eventually the doctor throws his hands up in defeat and goes "Alright, alright! But just one trip!" And stomps up the stairs in a tiff.

Jake pumps his fists and jumps up and down in excitement.

"How would you like to go home?" He asks. You raise an eyebrow over your shades and look meaningfully around but he just snorts and waves you off.

"Not here! I mean the 51st century!" He says, "We could go to the cinema, the proper cinema! Visit the helzdrageez complexity, swim in the rivers of Belfin, do anything you like!"

  
"Don't you guys have shit to do?" You ask him, surprised. Jake shakes his head and takes your hand with a wide smile.

"Its a time machine chum, things'll keep. Come on old boy, let us show you what traveling is REALLY like." You're thrown by the generosity of the gesture, no one's ever been like this with you, offered you anything.

"What about my stuff?" You ask. Jake's grin widens. "Should I pack clothes or something?"

"It's just one little trip Strider, you'll be back before the sun sets here," he cajoles waggling his eyebrows, "Say yes and I'll let you borrow mine."

Sold.

One trip turns into two trips which turns into twelve which turns into "No AR you can't interface with the TARDIS, we don't actually live here." Which turns into "Oh, what the hell, here's a key, don't wander off."

It's not the life you were expecting, it's full of heartache and danger and betrayals and an awful lot of running, but in the end it's worth the crazy.

The best things always are.

 


End file.
